


To Each His Own (alternate title: "Kent Parties are Brutal," So Saith the Lex)

by josephina_x



Category: Smallville
Genre: Christmas Dinner, Christmas Party, Gen, Holiday Dinner Party, Small Towns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 05:06:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1128680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/josephina_x/pseuds/josephina_x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for jlvsclrk's prompt: "what about something to do with Lex being invited to a Kent family dinner (Thanksgiving or Christmas or any other holiday for that matter) and being overwhelmed by all the food."</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Each His Own (alternate title: "Kent Parties are Brutal," So Saith the Lex)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jlvsclrk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jlvsclrk/gifts).



> Title: To Each His Own (alternate title: "Kent Parties are Brutal," So Saith the Lex)  
> Prompt from jlvsclrk: "what about something to do with Lex being invited to a Kent family dinner (Thanksgiving or Christmas or any other holiday for that matter) and being overwhelmed by all the food."  
> AN: Lex-centric more than Clark-centric, but hopefully still all right ^_^;;  
> Original post date: 2013-12-05  
> Original post location: [LJ post](http://josephina-x.livejournal.com/43425.html)

~*~*~*~*~*~

"We, ah, we don't have to eat _all_ of this today, do we?" Lex said with no small trepidation as he looked out over the large spread on the dining room table.

And the serving containers still on the kitchen counter.

And out on the living room coffee table.

And lining the very walls of the farmhouse itself.

...Well, maybe not that last one, but the first two held dammit, and two supplemental areas for foodstuffs was at least one far too many, and far more than enough for a family of three plus him, in Lex's vaunted opinion.

Clark gave him a _look_ that said _Are you crazy?_ which had Lex starting to relax in quiet relief.

That is, right up until Clark continued with, "It's not just for us; there's a lot of other people coming over, too."

It took a moment for Lex to parse that, and his stomach clenched. _Wait, what?_

Clark looked over the entirety of the bounteous spread and shook his head and sighed. "I really hope there's enough," he said. "I mean, I know it's supposed to be potluck and all, but..." and he didn't sound like he was being sarcastic; he sounded worried.

"Uh..." Lex said, about to raise a pointer finger in the _slightest_ of objections to the misleading words that kept coming out of Clark's mouth, because _who all else_ was coming and _how much food_ did Clark think that they really needed, here?

Unfortunately, Lex was interrupted by the sound of the doorbell, and Clark saying brightly, "I'll get it!" as Jonathan came down the stairs carrying a few portable card tables. Lex looked on in horror as Clark greeted a pair of Smallville residents who were carrying in a covered container that was likely full of food -- no, _one each_ \-- and Martha came down the stairs next with yet another pair of folding tables and started helping Jonathan set them all up.

_Oh god._ The food really _was_ going to be lining the walls...

~*~*~*~*~*~

_I am stuck in a small house with half the population of the town,_ Lex thought to himself weakly.

Yes, he'd been subjected to corporate Christmas parties with not nearly this level of cheer, but at least when he'd been forced to show up to those he generally knew some of the people attending other than the hosts. And people were expected to be sharks and one could feel perfectly comfortable acting accordingly.

Here, everybody was expected to be _friends_ , if not _friendly_ , and the citizens of Smallville did not as a whole like him. Lex was stuck in a corner, trying desperately not to be antisocial by smiling at people a lot, nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.

He also spent a lot of time trying to shrink into the living room walls (not that he'd ever been very good at being unnoticeable) and praying to every god he could think of (and a few he might have been spuriously making up on the spot) that no-one would come over and try to talk to him. _This is hell. I am in hell._

People were also carrying around large, dinner-sized plates full of actual food, not just appetizers, and how had no-one managed to spill anything on the floor yet, Lex didn't know. He just hoped he wasn't the first. He was used to small plates and a few appetizers here and there. Juggling a full plate of food, a drink, _and_ utensils while maintaining proper manners and decorum was somewhat beyond his skillset. Frankly, he wasn't sure how other people were managing this, but they certainly seemed to be. Food was quickly disappearing from peoples' plates over time. And as far as he could tell from the random conversations he overheard and the brief glimpses of free space he sometimes saw, people were at least tasting the food, and it wasn't just ending up on the floor or hidden between the sofa cushions.

Eventually, he came to the realization that while an ungodly number of people were milling about downstairs -- enough to likely cause a fire hazard; what was the occupation limit for this house exactly? -- what was different about this party, as opposed to others he'd seen held in other people's living spaces, was that nobody was going upstairs. So Lex slowly worked his way around the periphery of the room with great care not to get accosted by anyone, and made good on his escape -- straight up the stairs, and into Clark's room.

Once he was securely ensconced and had toed the door closed behind him, he let out a great sigh of relief and set the plate and glass down on what little free space existed on Clark's desk. Then he took two short steps back and collapsed onto Clark's bed.

There was a knock on the door (oh no) and the doorknob turned.

"No-one's in here," Lex tried, but that didn't dissuade them from coming in.

Well, at least it was Clark.

"Are you... hiding?" Clark asked, looking and sounding confused.

"I don't know if you'd noticed this," Lex began, "but I am not built for this sort of social gathering, Clark," Lex finished informed him.

"You seem to do okay at those high society events where nobody likes each other," Clark pointed out, sitting down on the edge of the bed, "And those are hard."

"Yes, well, apparently difficulty level is relative," Lex told him dryly, after thinking that one over for all of two seconds.

"But it's not that hard at all," Clark said. "Everybody down there is all friendly and wants to talk to you. Everybody at all those LuthorCorp gatherings are mean and want to be mean to you," and it was clear from Clark's tone which of the two he preferred.

"Yes," said Lex, pushing himself up to sit with his back against the headboard, "but at the ones with mean people I can ignore them, be mean right back, or just walk away whenever I like. _Here_ ," Lex stressed, "I would have to be _nice_ ," he told Clark. "And I hate having to try and be nice to and talk with people who aren't nice back to me."

"Well, they might be nice if you gave them a chance," Clark told him, shoving himself over to sit up next to him. "Instead of glowering at everybody. If you weren't being all scary in the corner, maybe people would want to talk to you?" Clark tried.

"I wasn't _glowering_ ," Lex informed him. "And I don't see how that's a bad thing. I didn't want anybody to come over and talk to me."

"Well, everybody could definitely tell, and you _were_ glowering," Clark practically scolded him. "Or at least you looked like if anybody came over to you that you'd smash your glass against a wall and cut a guy, or something."

Lex turned his head and looked at him.

"Crazy eyes," Clark told him. "And your smile was very off."

"Was not."

Clark gave him a _look_ and crossed his arms.

Lex dutifully ignored it, because this sounded like the kind of lecture that he'd probably be getting from his _mom_ , if she was still around. And Clark wasn't. His mom. So there.

Then Clark made a choked sound of horror and Lex glanced over, wondering what was the matter.

Apparently something was wrong with his plate, because Clark retrieved it from the desk and held it out to him.

"Lex!" he said. "Haven't you eaten anything?!"

_Oh._ Lex shifted in place. "I'm not all that hungry..." he began, refusing to take the plate.

"What?" Clark said, lowering it. "But..."

"I'm never all that hungry when I'm feeling stressed, Clark," Lex told him.

That garnered Lex got a frown. "Are you feeling really stressed out right now?"

_Ugh._ "Maybe," he hedged.

"Lex, it's Christmas Eve!" Clark told him, his frown deepening. "You're supposed to be relaxing and having fun, not worrying about every single little thing."

_Right, and you telling me that is so helping._

"Clark, I don't know anyone down there besides you and your parents, I can't eat off a regular plate standing up, and I don't feel comfortable talking with the subway station's worth of people that keep drifting in and out of your house!" Lex told him. _And, frankly, if I'd known it was going to be like this, I'd have begged off!_

Clark sat next to him and frowned for awhile.

"Just, go downstairs and enjoy your party, all right?" Lex tried. Maybe he wasn't having fun, but he didn't want to spoil Clark's night, too.

Clark shook his head and stood up. "Okay," he said, and Lex felt a mixture of both relief and disappointment.

At least, he did until Clark firmly set his plate in his lap and picked up his champagne glass. "Come on," he said, heading for the door.

"What?" Lex said, starting to set the plate and utensils aside.

"No," Clark said, "you bring that with."

Lex blinked, then frowned up at him. "Clark, I just said--"

"It's fine," said Clark. "I'll stay with you so you won't be alone, we can sit on the couch so you can hold your plate on your knees, and I can talk with people so you don't have to," Clark told him.

Lex had a disturbing sensation of reversal, because he remembered running a similar sort of interference for Clark at his first LuthorCorp gala gathering, when Clark was so nervous about everything.

Not that Lex was nervous about anything.

But Clark seemed very sure of himself, and Lex supposed that he could always disappear upstairs again if he had to, so he stifled a sigh, got up, and followed Clark back downstairs.

And so Lex sat in the corner of the couch, Clark right up against his side, and carefully balanced his plate on his knees while Clark held his glass for him, and let Clark do all the talking.

When he began to realize that no-one was going to force him to try and socialize, Lex slowly felt some of the tension ease out of his shoulders.

Finally, after a half-hour or so, he was no longer so wound up that he couldn't eat, and he was happy to discover that, as it turned out, Mrs. Kent's roast turkey and mashed potatoes tasted perfectly good when cold -- at least as good as it had smelled warm earlier.

Lex didn't quite engage in the conversations surrounding them, but he did start to follow one or two rather than simply listening in. And while no-one addressed him directly, they did sometimes glance at him, so he wasn't being ignored.

By the end of the night, the food was all gone off of his plate, as it was from all of the dishes(!), and while he hadn't interjected himself into any conversations, he had at least given a head-nod or two to some of the latecomers who had said hello to both himself and Clark.

"See, that wasn't so bad, now was it?" Clark told him, as Lex helped dry the neverending supply of dishes that Clark was slowly washing clean and handing to him, one at a time.

"It could have been worse," Lex grudgingly admitted at the end of it.

~*~*~*~*~*~


End file.
